


SmuppetCatCam.com

by Apiaristic, br0jangles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aged up characters, Begging, Bondage, Catboydave, Collars, Humiliation, Incest, M/M, Masturbating, Multiple Orgasms, Oral, Overstimulation, POV Alternating, Praise Kink, Pseudo Incest, Puppets, Pure Porn, Rimming, Roleplay Logs, Sex Toys, Sybian, bein dudes, bxb - Freeform, camboy, dubcon, forcced orgasms, just two guys in a room, no au, no sburb, puppet-sybian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22944472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apiaristic/pseuds/Apiaristic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0jangles/pseuds/br0jangles
Summary: Dirk’s puppet porn website isn’t reeling in as much excitement as it used to, so he goes looking for new and exciting content. Content that just so happens to be a brother with cat-like attributes.
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Dave Strider
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	SmuppetCatCam.com

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was... a lot to write, lmao, but it was fun, too.
> 
> I’m also so sorry for my long-ass hiatus, and the sudden lack of Good Omens stuff. I’ve fallen out of the fandom for the moment, but who knows, maybe I’ll write more at some point. But for now, Homestuck!
> 
> ALSO- for whatever reason, it won’t let me add @br0jangles as a creator- I accidentally invited them instead. Please note that they put a huge amount of effort into this as well!!!!
> 
> \- Bee

Dave has exactly  _ no _ idea how it came to this. Has prescisely not a clue how he got here, half-naked, sitting on his brothers bed in a mess of-

Eugh,

Puppets.

He's sitting on his knees, with his thighs splayed apart and his hands between them on the sheets, his brows furrowed deeply at the lens that glares at him from the end of the bed. 

"Why am I doing this again?"

If his voice shakes, he doesn't register it. There's too much else going on in here. Behind him, the rest of the bed, and  _ way _ too many brightly coloured dolls with accentuated asses and dead eyes.

He brings a hand to his bleach-blond hair and strokes through it, his fingers catching on his ear.

Yes.  _ Ear _ .

From any normal perspective, it'd be hard to pick. Dave wore beanies for the explicit purpose of hiding the fact that from his skull sprouted a cartilaginous pair of cat-like ears. They matched the colour of his hair, as did the appendage that sprouted from his tailbone, which sat curled around his body, flicking with distaste and a soft  _ pap _ noise against the mattress.

Bright red slits were hidden by aviators, and clawed hands were put in display with black polish. He'd been  _ styled _ and  _ preened _ and  _ pushed _ and  _ pulled _ , and he was just about sick of all the show-business prep.

He still wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be filming, but Dirk was fussing with lights and cameras and  _ more fucking puppets _ , and still hadn't given him a script, or any clue as to what he was to be doing except sitting still, looking pretty.

He flicked an ear, laid the pair flat against his skull as he ran his tongue across his sharpened canines and slicked his lips.

Eugh. Cherry. 

His tailpiece lashed out behind him once, twice, knocked a puppet off the bed. Knocked a second one out of place. He was impatient and rather uncomfortable, actually, wearing null but a pair of socks and his briefs.

" _ Dirk _ ". He repeats, drawing his lips into a line. "If I have to sit in this puppet pile for one more uncomfortably soft hour, I'm going to start coughing up hair."

Dirk adjusts the camera, slightly this way, a hair that way. It’s sat up on a tripod, focused on Dave, perfectly framing the scene on the bed. He’s been meticulously setting up for… well, it’s only been a few minutes, right? Dave has always been a whiner, exaggerating everything.  _ ’An hour _ ,’ what an ungrateful brat. He should be  _ happy _ that Dirk is including him.

He keeps his eyes rained on the small screen in front of him, watching Dave without actually looking at him. His voice is even, stoic as he addresses the kitten on his bed. “Calm your pretty little ass down and be patient. If you cough up anything anywhere near my set, you won’t like what happens.”

He takes a step back, eyes moving behind his shades to take in the scene. He watches Dave, the camera, Dave again. He watches the way Dave’s tail flicks impatiently behind him. The way his pretty little ears twitch and fold anxiously. Really, Dave is  _ very _ attractive. How could he not be, with Dirk’s own blood in his veins? 

And the  _ cat features _ . It’s incredible. Every weeaboo’s, otaku’s, and fujoshi’s wet fucking dream. It’s a wonder, how he’s gone this long without Dave making an appearance on his website. This scene is  _ long _ overdue.

The red record light flicks on on the camera, with a well placed tick of Dirk’s eyes. Everything he owns is hands free. This is  _ his _ domain. His will is only a thought away, his AI well trained to respond to his every desire. Everything is perfect.

“Dave,” he says, still even, controlled, if not deeper. It’s a command, a performance for the audio recording. “Introduce yourself. Tell me why you’re here.”

They’ve vaguely rehearsed this. More like, Dirk simply told him to show up and be well behaved. 

The rest was implied.

And Dave still came. Still stripped for him and laid in the pile of puppets like a good little boy. Dirk couldn’t be more proud.

Dave purses his lips tighter at Dirk's request and sighs.  _ Purr _ ses them. Hehe.

Glaring at the camera behind his shades, the dark glass hiding any change in his visual tone, he clears his throat. Introduce himself. Okay. Easy. He can do that.

"Uh. Hello. I'm um. Dave St- Uh. Dave." 

He stammers through the first sentence. Does he give out his full name? Does he not? Will people come  _ looking _ for him?

That's an uncomfortable thought.

His ears twitch again and swivel, keening to pick up on every little noise. The sound of a puppet shifting. The sound of Dirk tapping his finger, pushing his glasses up.

He glances from the lens to his sibling.

Asshole. He doesn't know why he decided to come. He shouldn't have, he'd much rather be in bed, playing a video game, or composing some rap, or something  _ else _ .

What compelled him to be here?

"I'm legal, I guess that's important, unless you don't care about that, which maybe some of you don't, or probably don't, and— I'm— a boy?"

He looks to Dirk as if for guidance. Is he saying the right things? Doing the right things??  _ Introduce _ himself, okay, but introduce  _ what _ ?

Dave shifts positions, tries to look more comfortable, and crosses his legs beneath himself, stilling his restless tail in his lap. He pets over it, sighs.

"I'm also the only person I know to have a genetic mutation which gives me catty shit. I don't know how, or why, but apparently it's something special to see, which is why I'm here. As far as I know."

He pauses.

"Apparently some people out there are into shit like this too. Which is also why I'm. Here. I think. Fuck, Dirk, this is dumb."

Shifting on the bed again, Dave moves almost to get up, but as soon as his eyes catch  _ Lil Cal _ in the corner by the door, he's stuck to the spot. His tail flicks, and an inhuman hiss builds in his throat, the soft fur of his hind puffing slightly.

He sits back in the bedsheets and turns his curled lip towards Dirk.

"What now?"

The corner of Dirk’s mouth twitches up, like he’s smirking, but it’s barely a real motion. His arms are crossed, eyes firmly fixed on Dave now. It’s cute, the way he’s rambling, not knowing what to say. The way he starts to ball in on himself. How his tail curls protectively around him.

The  _ fear _ that flickers across his features, if only for just a second. 

He doesn’t understand why Dave is afraid of Cal, but that doesn’t make it any less delicious. He’s sure that his audience feels the same way.

“Take off your glasses,” he says next. And he waits, because he knows that Dave won’t want to do it. But he  _ will _ . A single, impatient tap of his foot makes sure of that.

“Relax,” he continues, though his tone is anything but relaxing. It’s brittle and cold, and invited no arguments. He wants to be mad at Dave for saying this is dumb on camera, but he’s not. He’s forgiving. Dave is  _ nervous _ . He’s allowed to be nervous. It’s part of the appeal. 

“You’re doing so well, Dave,” he praises. “Why don’t you show me how you like to touch yourself? Get comfortable. Don’t worry about what I want just yet. We have all the time in the world for that.”

The implication is obvious, that they won’t be ending this any time soon. This particular session, or in general. If Dave can’t work up to the big toys this round, that’s fine. There will be another. And another. It’s not exactly a threat, but.

Well.

Dave might as well make himself comfortable  _ now _ .

Dirk’s arms remain crossed as he watches. A single finger taps against his arm, warning, waiting.

He really can't wrap his head around why he's so compliant. He's grossed out, sure, but he's still doing it, isn't he?

Relax. 

Dave glares hard, but Dirk's unfriendly stare right back at him makes him dip his eyes away. Its obvious that he's impatient, and a part of the catboy makes him curious as to what exactly would happen if he didn't... obey.

Another part of him tells him that he might not want to know.

Dave has no idea where to start with touching himself. Not a single thing in this room is even mildly arousing, in fact, most of it stirrs discomfort in his stomach and an inverted-boner, if anything, in his briefs.

Brows furrowing, his ears lay flat against his skull.

Take off his glasses? Fuck that, come on-

He looks to Dirk almost pleadingly, but the way he's got his jaw set and his stance put tells Dave that he doesn't have a choice.

He reaches to slide his glasses off his nose. Avoids looking at the camera until the last minute, coyly clipping his slitted red hues towards and then away from the camera lens.

An odd kind of excitement, though, grows in his stomach at the thought of being watched. At the thought of being subject to whatever kind of- well, toys, there are lined up.

It's not enough to get him hard, no, but it's enough to encourage him to bring his hand to one of his ears. He closes his eyes and tries to do as Dirk oh-so-kindly suggested, and relax, scritching the soft appendage at the bed where it meets his skull.

The gesture is small, almost barely there, but it feels good, and Dave sighs out, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slowly grows slightly more confident, the puppet-nightmare around him fading as he rubs and pets himself. His ear flicks, and a rumble kicks up in his chest, but its gone as quick as it came as Dave runs a hand down his chest to his crotch.

Fuck, this feels dirty.

He's being watched.

By Dirk, and in a few days, undoubtedly, a fuckass load of people.

A whimper escapes him as he presses his palm into his groin, as if trying to push down his growing excitement. He shifts, squeezing his thighs together as his hand rubs more earnestly at his ear, his head bowing.

He peeks an eye open towards Dirk, voice breathy.

"Is this right?"

Dirk doesn’t miss the excitement flash in Dave’s eyes as he makes contact with the camera. So Dave likes it, does he? Being watched? Being adored?

Well, is he in for a treat.

He watches intently while Dave pets his own ears, and he couldn’t have asked for more if he’d written the cue card himself. It’s exactly the kind of exploitation of the extra appendages he’d been hoping for, and he didn’t even have to tell Dave to do it. Does it actually feel good? Or is he just putting on a show, because he thinks it’s what Dirk wants to see? Either way, it’s…

“Perfect,” he says. Another praise. Dave earned it. “A perfectly playful little kitten. Show me more.”

He’s got plans. He’s got so many plans for his little kitty. But he wants Dave properly pliant first. He wants Dave soft and easy. He wants Dave to drown in it.

The way Dave grinds his hand into his groin, the way his thighs squeeze are secondary. It’s the  _ purr _ that ignites the excitement in Dirk’s chest. The involuntary flick of his ears. The way his tail sways curiously as Dave starts to open up.

It’s absolutely  _ delectable _ .

He doesn’t show it, though. The kind words are enough, he thinks. Dave doesn’t need too big of a head.

Dave shakes when Dirk praises him, a little fire erupting in his chest at the thought of being  _ good _ . He's good, yes, he's  _ perfect _ .

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's disgusted with himself. Touching himself like this in front of his  _ brother _ and a camera. 

But he's quickly growing excited, and replacing the disgust is a desperate desire. 

He swallows, a soft, wet little;  _ 'Ah…’ _ Escaping his lips as he rubs at his ears, the both of them laying down against his head. Not flat back as if upset, just down to the side, making more room for him to use his hands against the sensitive flesh.

His eyes are closed for the most part, lidded when he opens them to glance at the camera or to Dirk for confirmation, his slits widened into innocent-seeming circles. 

Another whimper. Dave's hand finds its way into his underwear, and he curses both in embarrassment and arousal, his cheeks burning as red as his eyes. His tail sways, twitches at the end, and almost on its own, the hand not fondling his half-hard cock inside his briefs is slipping around behind him, grabbing and rubbing at the dock of the appendage. He keens back into his hands, mewls bashfully, and bows his head further to hide his reddened cheeks.

This is embarrassing. Dirty. Wrong. He almost doesn't want to do this anymore. He's questioning it in his head, but it feels so good, and Dirk is calling him good, and they need the money....

Those thoughts alone have his dick jumping into his hands and his tail-end perking, swishing aside,  _ presenting _ to the audience of puppets behind him.

"S-Should- Should...-" He stutters between trying to keep his voice flat, desperately wanting to *not* sound debauched this early on as he squirms, thighs tensing as he wraps his hand around his shaft and strokes himself slowly, swallowing a gasp. "Should I... Uh... Take these off?"

“Yes,” Dirk says, immediately. Every flick and twitch of Dave’s ears, his tail, every little tremble-- it’s hypnotizing. It’s beautiful. It’s inviting. It’s enticing. Dirk is  _ enticed _ .

“Leave the stockings on, though,” he adds, gaze dropping to the way they hug the soft squish of Dave’s thighs. “I like them.” His gaze lingers for a moment, before rising to the fingers gingerly stuffed into underwear, to Dave’s wide, round eyes.

Divine.

He waits for Dave to do as he’s asked. Watches the way Dave’s hard, pink, little cock bounces as he undresses.

What a shame… he’s hard already. So much for the cage. It’s not a total loss, though. It provides him with information: Dave is _sensitive_. Probably too sensitive for what Dirk wants to do to him. Which means he will be very easy to make cry.

Better and better by the second.

There’s something missing, though.

A flick of his eyes, and one of the puppets on the bed moves. It shifts, opens up, a small platform rising out. On it, sits a pretty little red collar. Complete with a cat’s bell, and a delicate red bow. “Put it on,” he instructs. “And then turn around, on your hands and knees. Let me see you.”

Dave nods, and sighs out in something akin to relief as he moves to peel his briefs off. He lifts his foot to kick them off, the little, comical paws on the pads of the thigh-highs shown off to the camera as he drops them to the floor.

He groans as he's finally freed, hastily wrapping his hand around his length to jerk himself, a bead of pre forming at his slit. He's gotten off many times before, sure, but it feels different now. He's always been sensitive, and he assumes it comes with his cat-like attributes, but all it ever did was make it a lot easier for him to get himself off.

A few strokes and he should be over at this pace.

He huffs and croons unabashedly as he starts to fuck into his hand, eager. Feels so good, feels so good, feels so good...

He's only stopped by the sound of a puppet moving behind him. He yelps in surprise, ears and tail flicking up in alert puffyness, his back to the camera now as he reels and spins in place. Dave relaxes, albiet slowly, when he realises that its not actually a puppet trying to rape him, or some shit, and he flicks his tail again as he reaches for the collar. Its delicate, sturdy,

It's  _ cute _ .

The bell tinkles when he holds the collar up to his face, and he dings the bell with his index finger once before he swallows and unbuckles it, only to obediently wrap it around his neck.

When it's on, he turns back to the camera and dings the bell again. A childish smile lights up his face for a moment, and he's amused for a second before it hits him again the situation he's in.

Game face back on, he swallows, aching cock trapped between his thighs but only for a minute before he shuffles onto his hands and knees  _ as Dirk asked _ , his face burning red.

"This is embarrassing..." He whispers almost silently, biting his plush, cherry-coated lip with his sharper canines.

Dirk is…  _ surprised _ when Dave continues to touch himself after stripping. He didn’t tell Dave to do that, and he certainly didn’t think Dave would want to do it on his own. Interesting. It seems that Dave is much more comfortable than Dirk expected him to be. 

What a pleasant turn of events.

And he looks  _ happy _ to put the collar on. Another pleasant development. It tinkles as Dave moves, and the sound makes Dirk’s cock twitch.

As Dave turns around, his tail curls behind him, following his body, until Dave settles down and it raises up. It exposes Dave’s ass and hole so beautifully, so sweet and pink. Framed by the sway of his tail above, and the squeeze of his stockings around his thighs.

Dirk wants to stick his tongue inside that hole. He’s sure his viewers feel the same.

“Spread your thighs for me, Kitten,” comes the next command. “I want to see between them. And  _ don’t _ touch your dick.”

He watches as Dave obeys, sees the reddening flesh peek between his thighs. As sensitive as Dave appears to be, it’s amazing that the last little stunt didn’t finish him off. He wonders where Dave’s limit is.

He’s sure that it won’t take long for him to figure out.

“Can you finger yourself for me?” he asks. And it _is_ a genuine question. He wouldn’t want Dave to hurt himself with those sharp claws of his. He doesn’t need damaged goods. “Or do you need help?”

He still hasn’t moved from his place beside the camera. He doesn’t look at the frame, though. He knows well enough that Dave is still perfectly in frame. It was unnecessary for him to spend so long setting it up, when it’s trained perfectly to keep Dave centered. Dirk can’t help the need to be in control sometimes, though.

Like now.

His fingers squeeze lightly into his own arms, where they’re still crossed. He wants to  _ touch _ Dave. But it’s not time yet. Patience is key.

Dirk calling him  _ kitten _ stirs arousal in Dave’s gut like Betty fucking Crocker with an electric whisk, and he groans as he presses his face into the sheets and fists at them with his hands. He wants to rut down into the mattress, but settles for bucking his hips and fucking the air for a moment, his tail perked up and kinked to the side.

_ Presenting _ .

When Dirk asks him to pull his thighs apart, his face goes so red he worries that the bed might catch alight just with the heat on his cheeks. He makes a soft whining sound, but nevertheless lets his chest and face take the brunt of his weight on the bed and reaches back to  _ spread _ himself.

He groans as his flushed cock bobs between his legs, and he wants to touch himself, he so  _ desperately _ wants to touch himself, but Dirk said no.

Dirk said no.

He groans low when his finger circles the pucker of his hole. He's tight, he's never had  _ anything in there _ before, but the thought has crossed his mind and excited him a few times before. His tail shudders, and he can't resist the urge to rub the dock of himself, index on the top of his tailbone and thumb at the perineum where the underside trails to his hole, and moans louder than he anticipated, ears flicking, swivelling back to listen for Dirk's voice again.

"I- I ca-ah- I can't-" His voice shakes, and he hides his embarrassed face in the sheets again as the claw of his finger nicks the sensitive skin of his hole. He moans again as he grinds his fingers against the base of his tail, and fucks the air, pucker cinching with a quiet mewl from Dave.

"I n-need- Mmm.. F-ffffuck, this is- shit, fuck, Dirk, I can't d-do it on my own....-"

Dave surprises him yet again, by not only spreading his legs like he was told to, but spreading his ass open as well. Such a well behaved little kitty. Dirk is proud. Dirk is  _ aroused _ .

As Dave trembles and strokes himself, Dirk’s restraint slips away by the second. He had been planning to let one of the puppets work Dave open for him, but it seems that his plans are falling apart. The way Dave calls his name, littered with soft mewls and curses, is the final nail in the coffin of his plan.

His kitten needs him. And he’s going to provide.

He uncrosses his arms, and his eyes stay fixed on Dave as he steps forward. He’s not exactly dressed to be on camera, but he supposes that his usual attire fits the role of caretaker well enough. His simple black beater tucked into black jeans, secured with a belt around his hips. His hair spiked perfectly to match his shades. 

It balances well, to be fully clothed, while Dave isn’t. Really plays into the imbalance of power here. Dave is the one on display here, not him. And Dave is going to fall apart for it.

The mattress dips slightly under his knees as he gets on the bed. He remains conscious of the angle of the camera, but it’s not the only one recording, so he doesn’t waste a lot of time thinking about it.

“Don’t worry, Kitten, I’ve got you,” he says. His voice remains icy, but maybe it’s comforting. With his own hands, he spreads Dave’s ass apart, framing either side of his money shot with the length of his thumbs. He lets the moment linger, for the camera, and also for Dave’s sake. Dave might not have been prepared for Dirk to actually participate, and now is not the time for him to freak out. Now is the time for him to embrace his submission.

He rubs a dry thumb over Dave’s still dry, fluttering hole. Dave is  _ excited _ . Or at least his body is extremely responsive. Perfect.

He wraps a hand around the base of Dave’s tail, thumbing along the bottom of it, and without any further warning, he bends down and does exactly what he wants to do. He licks a long, slow strip, from as close to Dave’s balls as he can get, all the way up to where skin meets fur. Then back down, circles Dave’s hole, prods at it with the tip of his tongue.

Dave tastes even better than he imagined.

As the bed dips, Dave cants his hips back, a low whimper escaping him as he rubs himself. His hands, however, fall away faster than Dirk could say 'smuppet', when he feels a second pair of hands on him, lithe fingers moving to tangle in the sheets as excitement mounts and arousal coils tighter.

Dirk is touching him, Dirk is touching him, Dirk is—

" _ Oh _ !" Dirk is  _ tonguing _ him.

His siblings reassurance reassures him little, but still Dave cries out and arches his back, pressing his chest into the bed and tears at the sheets with his hands, gasping. 

This isn't right. This is  _ bad _ , they're  _ brothers _ , but any and all kind of moral resistance melts away with each slip of Dirk's tongue over his pucker. He moans and moans, the sensation almost overwhelming, nothing he's felt before.

"Dirk, Dirk- T-thhhhaaah- D-Dhhh- _ irk _ ! w-whh- we- We sh-shh- Oohhhh… aah-!" Trying to voice his mind in the hopes that  _ maybe _ , it'll quell his swirling mass of thoughts, he stammers through a few broken words before he's reduced to gasping and mewling like the kitten he is, his thighs shaking as he bucks back onto Dirk's tongue with eager abandon.

They  _ shouldn't _ be doing this.

Reaching to pet one of his ears again, Dave rumbles with a low purr, interrupted only by his feeble cries and whines as Dirk works his mouth over his hole. It feels  _ divine _ , and it has the smaller boy shaking, his other hand reaching behind to tangle in Dirk's hair and tug, pulling him closer, urging him on. 

Dirk takes careful delight in every single noise his kitten makes. He holds Dave’s hips firmly as he licks into him. Dave is quick to fall apart, so Dirk is quick, too. He pushes in with his tongue, prodding, stretching. This is more than simply for his own satisfaction. He needs Dave to be properly prepared for what comes next.

So he presses in further, tight and deep and wiggling. He eats Dave’s ass so well and sloppy, his own spit coats his chin and shines on Dave’s thighs. When he opens his eyes, his shades show him Dave. The way he trembles in Dirk’s hands. The way his cock leaks, flushed and red. The way his claws dig into the sheets. The flick of his tail. The way his jaw hangs open in that perfectly fucked out slack.

Dave can't even think straight. He's sure he must look like a whore or something, face-down, ass-up, chest pressed into the mattress and face a debauched twist of pleasure.

"I'm gonna cum,-" Dave announces in a breathy gasp, gritting his teeth as tension mounts, and his toes curl in his socks, his tail twitching and swaying in response to Dirk's ministrations. It's almost entrancing. "I'm gonna cum, Fuck, oh, Dirk, I'm g-onna cum, I'm gonna cu-uuah-! Sh-iitt, shhhuhh- Aahhh, Dir- Diiiirk- Fffffuck…- So close, so closesoclose-"

Dirks own name on Dave’s tongue coils hotly in his gut and throbs in his cock. Knowing that Dave can cum like this alone is  _ extremely _ promising for what’s still to come. He pulls his tongue out, trails up to Dave’s tail and kisses at the dock. “You can cum,” he allows, and then he dives right back in.

Dave’s hole opens up readily for him this time, and it fills Dirk with a deep satisfaction. Dave is his to play with, and even his body knows it. He’s dying to reach up and pet Dave's ears, but he doesn’t want to block the shot. Dave’s orgasm is going to make him just as much money as the neko parts.

Dave shakes and whines, throwing his hips back with eager abandon, his thighs  _ quivering _ . It feels so good. It feels so fucking good, Dirk's tongue is so hot and wet and soft and when it pushes inside his hot hole, he makes a sound to put pornstars to shame, the sheets ripping with a nasty noise as his claws dig in and pull apart the linen.

It's wet. It's lewd. It's dirty. Dave is so embarrassed, his face is such a bright red he matches his collar. The little bell dingles and sings when Dave arches his back and moans into the bed, though he's not sure if it's loud enough to be heard by their audience. 

Dave can feel the cool air on his cheeks, the buffet of air from Dirk's shifting and breathing turning his skin to ice and making him shiver. His tail swats at the air as he grows closer and closer to his high, and the rumble in his chest has grown to a full-blown purr. It's so lewd, the way Dirk is dancing his tongue around his hole. Getting him good and slick, his pucker cinching around the wet appendage, fluttering and gaping like Dave's mouth as Dirk works him wet and open on his tongue.

When Dirk tells him he can cum, he almost does on command. He gasps a plea, his hole fluttering around Dirk's tongue, and it's so filthy and raw and carnal, the sounds reaching his ears slick, slurping,  _ wet _ , dirty sounds-

When he does cum, he's almost yelling.

"Oh fuck, Dirk, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh, oh- fuck, ffffuuhhh- fu-UCK! Dirk!" 

His ears lay flat as his eyes roll back, and he squeezes his eyes shut, howling as he spurts in hot, wet ropes over his stomach and the bed. His toes curl into the bed, and he roughly grinds his ass back onto Dirk's face, the hand in his hair tighter as he rides out his orgasm, shaking and sobbing with relief.

"Oh, oh, Dirk, oh, oh, hh, mmhhh- Sh-iit, shit, shit, oh..."

Dirk doesn’t stop, even as Dave curses unattractively and grips tighter in his hair--

His  _ hair _ .

Well, now, Dave has quite misbehaved, hasn’t he? Even after Dirk was so generous and let him cum already. Graciously let him have his  _ mouth _ , instead of letting the puppets have his ass. What is there to do now?

As Dave’s tremors slow, and his whimpers soften, Dirk sits up silently. His hands fall away from Dave’s body. He fixes his hair. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. He watches Dave’s tail flick still with the aftershocks of orgasm.

He looks downright pathetic. It’s gorgeous.

But gorgeous doesn’t excuse bad behavior. After another silent moment, he addresses his misbehaved Kitten. “Dave,” he says, just as evenly as before. It demands attention “You have a dirty mouth and wandering hands, Kitten. What are we going to do about that?”

Ideas come to him as quickly as frames in a movie. Dave wrapped up in pretty red rope. Dave’s pretty red lips wrapped around a rubber ball. 

Or his fingers.

Or his cock.

Really, there is no end to the things he would love to stick in Dave’s mouth. His fingers twitch to feel those sharp little canines pushing into his own skin. So cute.

He doesn’t move yet. He wants to give Dave the opportunity to come up with his own punishment. Not that Dirk will listen, but. It’s the gesture that counts.

Dave huffs and pants to catch the breath stolen from him, soft mewls slipping past his lips as he licks over them to slick the dry skin. He tries to sit up, sitting back on his knees with his head hung, looking like a child being scolded, albeit unintentionally.

Sweat sticks his hair to his forehead, and when Dirk speaks, his ears prick and swivel towards the noise, and then he freezes.

Oh, shit.

He squirms in place with embarrassment, his tail dead still but twitching at the end, as if too much movement is going to alert the predator kneeling on the bed beside him.

He reaches to tug at the collar around his neck. Its a little hot under there now, pardon the joke.

“I- '' He starts softly, avoiding Dirks gaze and instead turning his attention to his softening cock which sits still flushed between his thighs, eyes glazing over the white strings of cum that paint the pale, fleshy masses, and his torso. “I didn’t mean to. You didn’t say I couldn’t swear or touch you.”

When he replies, it is only slightly defiant. He’s defensive, because really, really? Dirk never said he wasn’t allowed to use bad language, although, he  _ had _ pulled on the others hair-

Then it hits him. Shame and humiliation hit him in a wave, and he shifts uncomfortably, tail wrapping around himself almost protectively. His hands card through the fur, his cock hidden by the appendage on his lap, ears no longer pricked curiously, but held shamefully down.

He just pulled his brother's hair.

He just let his fucking brother eat his ass.

He just  _ came _ to pulling his brother's hair and his brother eating his ass.

Dave glances shyly to the camera, licks his lips nervously, sinks his canine into the soft flesh of his mouth.

“Are we done now?”

Dirk shows no outward reaction, though he is  _ very pleased _ to see Dave looking so sheepish. Dave doesn’t even have to  _ try _ to hit the persona perfectly on the head. Again, he wonders how it took him this long to solicit Dave’s services.

No matter. He’s here now. And they’re not even close to done.

“Not even close,” he says out loud. As derailed as his plans have gotten, he’s not short on new ideas. And now that he shares the bed with Dave, he’s not too keen on leaving it.

He gestures with a hand, and another of the puppets whirrs to life. It opens up again, and this time, Dirk finds a length of rope inside. Always prepared.

He starts pulling it through his hands, unwinding it, finding the middle. He hooks the look around one finger and tells Dave, “Turn around again.” It invites no argument. His expression doesn’t change as he watches Dave move.

As soon as his Kitten’s back is to him, he takes both wrists, pulling them together behind Dave’s back. He begins to tie. He doesn’t stop, until Dave’s wrists are bound halfway up his forearm. It’s just as pretty as he thought it would be. But now he has another problem to address.

“I’ll ask you again, Dave. What am I going to do about that mouth of yours?”

When another puppet starts to move, Dave feels anxious arousal swelling in his belly. What will appear now? A gag? A toy? Dirk said that they weren't even close to done yet, and as exciting as that prospect is, it also means that he's undoubtedly in for more.... intense, sensations.

Rope. 

Its rope.

His heart skips a beat as Dirk reaches for the delicate length of red twine, and he has to grit his teeth to resist the urge to sigh out. 

Bondage was always something he'd wanted to try. Like this, maybe not, but alas, his cock is already growing betraying excited once more. 

He's going to be punished. This isn't the fun, innocent, fluffy-handcuffed stuff he thought he'd do with a significant other.

When Dirk orders him to turn, he does, albeit not without a complaining-whine of; "Dirk..." as he shows his back. He gasps softly, ears swiveling as he tries to look over his shoulder at what his brother is doing.

When the tie is done, Dave tests its strength. He pulls and twists his wrists, struggles and keens and grunts, but alas.

It's a good tie. A sturdy, business-meaning tie. He can't even being his elbows around in front of him, can't cover himself anymore—

Oh, fuck. That brings red to his cheeks. With his arms like this, he can't bring his hands to hide his face or his flushed cock, and he feels ashamed again when he looks down to be met with the start of another boner.

He brings his tail to his lap again to hide it, swallowing.

"M... My mouth...-" Dave murmurs softly, almost repeating the question as he tests his bonds again, his ear twitching and flicking at the air as he squirms on the bed.  "I- I- U-um... I don't know..." He. swallows. He does know, though, at least, in this scenario, he can imagine a few things Dirk could do. But there's no way he's going to voice it.

How embarrassing would that be? Tied up, covered in drying cum, collared and wearing stockings, and made to spout filth about what his brother should do about- or with,- his mouth.

Dave swallows again. Dirks calm tone makes him shiver. He's not in control here. That much is obvious. Dirk is still dressed. Dirk isn't bashful or eager or horny, as far as Dave can tell. 

Dirk has complete, calm, collected control.

Somewhere, deep down in the depths of Dave's dirtiest desires, that turns him on.

What an interesting answer. Dirk all but invited Dave to ask for mercy, to tell him that he’s sorry, that he would be a good boy, to offer up  _ anything _ . And he didn’t. He left it up to Dirk. How sweet.

“No remorse?” he asks. His voice borders on dangerous now. It almost sounds like he’s going to give Dave a second chance, a warning, but that’s not true. Does Dave  _ know _ what he’s just opened up?

It stirs something in him to watch Dave repeatedly pull at his hands. Like maybe if he just tries again, the rope will fall away. Does he not understand the position he’s in? The desire to pounce and consume Dave only grows as Dave becomes more and more pathetic and pliant before him.

Dave’s back is still to him, so it’s easy to slide up behind him. He touches fingertips to the back of Dave’s collar. It’s deceptively soft, gently sliding his fingers around Dave’s throat. Not to hurt, just to hold. He thumbs along Dave’s jaw as he presses himself against Dave’s bound arms. His chest lays flat over Dave’s strained shoulders, and he dips to speak directly into Dave’s ear. “If you’re not sorry, Kitten, then neither am I.”

He slides his hand up Dave’s throat, under his chin, until fingertips touch lips. He pokes at the painted skin, tugging Dave’s lip down just enough to see those cute little teeth. 

And then he’s pushing inside. He presses the pads of two fingers against Dave’s tongue, inviting him to  _ dare _ make a sound, before pushing in further, as far as he can go. He feels around inside, hard bone, soft muscle, slick teeth. He wonders how far he can push before Dave will start to gag.

His other hand comes up to finally, finally feel at Dave’s ear. It’s soft, warm, flinching under his attention. It’s deeply satisfying, in a way that he will never outwardly express. His thumb massages along the base of it, another faux tender touch.

He allows his puppets to continue to set up the next scene for him while he feels up the back of Dave’s tongue. There’s a rather fat orange one, that shifts and starts to vibrate. Instead of opening up, it simply grows, sprouts an extra appendage. When it’s done with its transformation, it’s obviously reminiscent of the Sybian.

Obviously more advanced than the Sybian. It’s self lubricating, shining with wet already. It settles down, and the room is quiet again, save for the wet noise of Dirk’s fingers stuffing into Dave’s mouth.

“Do you know what this is, Dave?” he asks. “I made it just for you. Are you grateful?”

Like Dave was supposed to know that he should have been sorry. Again, he rationalises, Dirk didn't tell him he couldn't be noisy, therefore, this predicament isn't his fault.

Dirk's voice, dipping into something that sounds almost a little angry, has Dave opening his mouth to speak again, to tell Dirk what he wants to hear, to tell him that he's sorry, he'll be good, he'll shut up, but Dirk has his hands on him seconds after, and he loses any and all ability to form words. 

He almost leans into the wandering fingers around his face, but forces himself to stay still, subconsciously still twisting his wrists in a feeble attempt to get free of the ropes that bind him. 

He's very, very aware of how vulnerable he is right now. 

His ear flicks and turns towards Dirk's voice, the hot air from his breath on the sensitive inner hairs making him shiver and squirm. His words make him squirm more, though, and the sudden urge to apologize gets a little stronger. He's sorry, he's sorry, he'll be good, he promises—

A wet, choked little sound escapes Dave despite his best efforts to stay silent when Dirk pushes his fingers into his mouth. He tastes like sweat, motor oil, like a workshop, and he recoils at it. But Dirk is behind him, his fingers in front, and Dave's hands quite literally tied. He can't speak, tongue spasming in response to the intrusive appendages as he lets his jaw-slack, trying to avoid biting down on the others fingers, as much as carnal need tells him that he should.

The touch on his ear is sweet. Or at least, Dave takes it as sweet. Dirk seems careful, and a rumbling purr vibrates up his throat at the attention, Dave's eyes fluttering as he bumps his head towards Dirk's hand for more, another wet, weak whimper drawing itself from his mouth, wrapped around Dirk's fingers.

It's only at the back of his throat that Dave chokes. Dirk's fingers are prodding, exploring, long, and as they graze the sides of the back of his throat, his eyes water and he wheezes, tossing his head back into Dirk's chest to get away from the abusive sensation. When it doesn't immediately relieve itself, he bites.

Not hard. Not enough to draw blood, anyway, but he brings his sharp little canines down to press just into the flesh of Dirk's finger, his tongue curling back on itself and almost thrashing to try and expel his digits, he's warning— 'It's too much.'

Whether Dirk cares or not to listen— That's the real little concern.

When puppets move again, his eyes shoot wide. His tail lashes, thuds itself against Dirk's chest, refuses to sit still while Dave squirms, pulling again at his arms and wrists, while simultaneously trying to stay as still as possible. He gags around Dirk's fingers again when he tries next to speak, drool forming at the corner of his mouth and slipping to drip down his chin.

Oh. Oh fuck. Is- Is that- Is that monstrosity-

No. Absolutely not. No way.

Is that a puppet with a-

Dave makes another sound of discomfort, his traitor cock growing excited between his thighs again as much as he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to subtly dislodge Dirk's fingers while also trying to tell him without words—

Nuh uh. Fuck that. He's not taking puppet cock.

Dave is easy to manipulate, and that’s exactly the way that Dirk likes it. Dave’s mouth is ready and willing to take his fingers, soft and warm and wet and  _ careful _ . Dave is being careful with him; isn’t that just adorable? But the further he stuffs his fingers in, the more obvious Dave’s discomfort becomes. And soon he’s outright struggling. 

The more that Dave resists, the more that Dirk wants to  _ push _ . He wants to see those pretty pink cheeks stained with tears. He wants to see the remorse in those beautiful, narrowed, red eyes.

And then… Dave bites him.

It doesn’t hurt, but it causes him to pause. His fingers go eerily still in Dave’s mouth. He doesn’t move or speak for several long moments, allowing the anxiety to bloom that he knows is bubbling in Dave’s chest at this point. 

He takes the moment to consider how to respond. He’s not pleased with the behaviour, to say the least. But Dave has been so obedient this far, despite the unfair game they’re playing. Dirk knows it’s unfair, but that’s what makes it fun. And if Dave had no other way to let him know he was reaching a limit…

Mercy.

Or at least a lesser punishment is in order.

He pulls his fingers back up into Dave’s mouth from his throat. He presses and squishes at Dave’s tongue a moment, playfully. A calm before the storm.

And then there are four fingers. He stuffs them all in, stretching Dave’s mouth open as wide as it will go. Dave’s teeth press into his skin by default, but it renders Dave’s jaw useless to clamp shut. He curls his fingers into a half fist, forcing Dave’s jaws to open around it until he’s sure that it aches. Dave coughs and chokes, clearly having not expected the sudden assault, and he goes rigid, lips stretched and jaw predictably  _ sore. _

“That was bad, Kitten,” Dirk says. It’s calm, though. His other hand is still playing gently with Dave’s ear. He buries his nose up against the shell of Dave’s other ear, soft and careful in glaring contrast to the abuse he’s instilling on Dave’s mouth.

Dave struggles harder against his bonds and feels his heart stop for a moment when he struggles to draw a breath.

They didn't figure out a safeword. What if Dirk goes too far and Dave can't take it? What then? 

The rational part of his brain kicks in and his heart starts again.

Dave trusts Dirk. Dirk's an asshole, yes. A mean, horny little boy, but he isn't stupid. He knows Dave like Dave knows Dirk. He knows what he's doing, how to do it, undoubtedly, and if anything, the worst he'll do is make Dave cry, he thinks. 

As much as he tries to make himself out to be, Dirk Strider isn't a villain to his core.

So Dave relaxes, slightly. His frantic bucking settles to squirming, his panicked gasps turn to simpler wet sounds. He suckles on Dirk's fingers, because hey, what else is he supposed to do, and sighs out a moan, arching his back and stretching his fingers before he curls them back into fists and tries to get out of his rope restraints to null avail.

A dry sob escapes his throat around Dirk's fist, tears beginning to squeeze from his wet eyes. He whimpers pitifully, lips stretched to the point of burning at the corners, his jaw settling into a dull ache. He squeezes his eyes shut, tail swaying, and keens his hips back slightly, the dock of his tail inadvertently grinding against whatever of Dirk is placed behind him.

Dirk’s hand is wet all the way down his wrist now, with spit and drool that Dave can’t seem to keep under control. The sweet, desperate noises Dave makes are what finally get him to pull his fingers away completely. He wants to hear them more clearly when Dave takes his rightful seat.

He pulls the fat, orange puppet closer to the both of them. It’s cock glistens enticingly with lube and Dirk takes a moment to appreciate his own work. It’s not especially large, but it’s not meant to be. It’s meant to be comfortable. It’s meant for extended use.

He turns his sharp eyes on Dave with another sharp word.

“Up.”

Wet noises tear past his lips, spit and drool cascading down Dave's chin and jaw in as Dirk’s fingers leave his mouth. When _that_ _monster_ is pulled into his view again, Dave tears his eyes away. He doesn't even want to look at it, let alone _sit_ on it. The thought makes him flush from his ears to his chest with embarrassment, perky nipples hard with the endorphins coursing through his veins, the arousal that meanly forces his cock to stand at attention.

Drooling still, Dave aches to wipe his face. Tears track down his cheeks and spittle drools down his chin and falls onto his chest, jaw agape, a pretty picture of ruin for the cameras.

He tries to be good. Lifts his hips a little bit, but then shakes his head no as he looks at the  _ thing _ , again.

It's not huge. Dave couldn't take something  _ huge _ . It's about average size, he assumes, and on any other day, if it were attached to literally anything else, maybe, he'd be on that thing and waiting for the ride within moments.

It probably vibrates.

It probably moves.

Dirk probably has the remote.

Those thoughts are the only thing that keep him in the game, and he dips his head, leaning into Dirk in search of reassurance, his ears reacting eagerly and openly to his brothers touch. He aches. His cock aches between his legs, bobs when he moves, flushed as his cheeks and ears.

"Is it going to hurt?" Dave asks in a small voice, silent enough that he hopes the cameras don't hear. He shifts until he's kneeling up, ashamed at how desperate and lewd this all seems

He knows, though, that Dirk won't break him. He won't let him hurt for  _ too _ long, anyway. He won't push him past the limit that he knows exists. 

Dave just doesn't want to fuck a puppet.

Nay— He doesn't want to be fucked, by a puppet.

Because that's what this is- He's going to  _ be fucked _ , by a puppet.

In a rare show of emotion, Dirk  _ grins _ at Dave’s question. The audio and video receptors in his shades pick up every last drop of it.

No, it’s not going to hurt, per se. Not at first. In fact, Dave probably won’t last more than a few seconds before cumming once it’s turned on. It’s powerful. It’s  _ good _ . The pain that Dave experiences will depend entirely on Dave’s recovery time, and his ability to handle the onslaught of sensation without backing down.

And Dave is  _ sensitive _ . This is going to be, without a doubt, a gorgeous thing to behold. Dirk can practically taste Dave’s tears already.

“It won’t hurt, Dave,” he promises, deceptive words wrapped around his grinning lips. He reaches forward, holding Dave’s hips steady with his hands to help him settle over the mount. Over the puppet. He slides one hand between Dave’s legs to grasp the puppets cock, and guide it to Dave’s hole. “Remember to watch your language…” he warns, kindly, as he gently encourages Dave to sink down on the toy.

Dave makes a weak sound in his throat when Dirk's hands move to his hips, shifting him. His skin is soft, delicate, unscarred, safe for the light speckling of freckles. He's grateful for the reply, a weight off of his chest knowing that it's not going to hurt.

They're a pretty picture. From the front, Dave is laid bare on display, knees splayed on either side of a slick toy, shining with lubricant. 

It  _ squelches _ when Dave slowly begins to sink onto it, Dirk's lithe hands wrapped around to his front, holding him steady as he sits.

He can feel it. He can feel every ridge and bump of the puppet dick as it slips into him with wet, embarrassing sounds. It slides in easy, and Dave's eyes roll back with his head when he feels the thing nudge something inside of him and brush past it.

He doesn't know  _ a lot  _ about anal sex. He's never done anything with his ass before.

But he's  _ sure _ that whatever just sent fucking sparks up his spine was his prostate, and there's no way that it feels that good. 

Dirk's touches are so…. kind. His voice is soothing, his hands are gentle, he's encouraging, he's sweet, he-

He makes Dave want to be good. Yes, yes, he's  _ Dirk's _ kitten, he's a  _ good _ boy, fuck, he'll be the best one if it means Dirk keeps being this…. this  _ nice _ .

Wiping his tears, whispering soothingly,  _ smiling _ —

Dave is putty.

Dirk brings one hand up to cup Dave’s face. He thumbs Dave’s cheek, wiping away already dried tears. The salt makes Dave’s skin rough, but it’s not unattractive. Dave could never be unattractive. He was  _ made _ for this. Too cute to ever spoil.

He watches Dave’s expression as he takes the puppet’s cock. He waits, patiently, until the entire thing is seated inside Dave, and then moves a hand up, to reward his Kitten with ear scratches. “You’re so good, Kitten. So pretty. Can you smile pretty for me?”

He still wears his own smile. He’s got both hands on Dave’s ears now, treating each of them to the sweetest of pets. 

He waits for Dave to smile.

Dave moans when he finds himself properly seated, and squirms, trying to feel the toy grind against his prostate again. He wants to feel that again, it felt so  _ good _ . He arches his back, his toes curling into the mattress, and purrs out a sigh, leaning back and grabbing the hem of Dirk's shirt in his hands, struggling with the way his wrists are tied. He wants to  _ touch _ him, wants to hold him, wants to feel Dirk's body against his—

Fuck that they're siblings. Dave's too lost in the sensations to care about that anymore. They've gone too far already.

When Dirk asks him to smile, Dave does so. It looks naughty, his teeth-grit, half awed grin as he stares down his chest to where his flushed cock bobs against the saddle of the puppet, knowing that just behind it, there's a wet, plastic cock stuffed inside of him. 

He huffs a breathy laugh, nerves, excitement, wanting to make Dirk happy- He doesn't know. But he does, his head lolling back onto the others shoulder again. He erupts with purrs, eyes falling blissfully shut again as Dirk pets him, so softly, so carefully… 

"It's so good…" Dave whispers, twisting the hem of Dirk's shirt in his hands as he shifts, feeling the toy grind against all of his sweet places, a soft groan shaking through his bones as his tail sways again and curls around to lay beside Dave's knee, as if putting itself on deliberate display, twitching against the bedspread.

Then, the puppet suddenly and immediately whirrs to life.

It's the  _ startup _ that catches Dave off guard. He's almost sleepily blissed out, Dirk's pettings and touchings and soft words, and his recent orgasm lulling him into quiet. Its when the toy starts to buzz and shake and  _ move _ , that his eyes shoot open and he yells, back arched and head thrown even further back, his teeth grit and lips pulled back in something of a snarl as he gasps out a moan. He lets go of Dirks shirt in favour of pulling at his ropes, and then doubles over, head bowed down towards the bed and stomach tensed as it vibrates through him. 

"Dirk!" He cries, his thighs seeming to spread wider, seating him deeper, making him shiver. It feels so good, and when Dave sits up again, he finds it pressed against  _ that _ spot, buzzing and shaking and grinding right where he wants it. " _ Yes _ ! Yes, yes, yes, there, there, oh,  _ oh-" _

He sobs and yells wantonly, wary of his words, wanting to hold on so desperately, wanting to stay together for Dirk, to be  _ good _ and last longer for Dirk, but he's still sensitive from his first orgasm, still sensitive from just being- well, sensitive at the best of times, and with the toy nudging against his prostate, wet noises getting wetter, lewd sounds getting lewder, his puckered hole stretched around the shaking sybian, he can't hold it.

It rips through him like a bullet. He almost screams as he spatters over his chest and the bed and the saddle of the toy, sure he's going to rip through his restraints with how tense and how violently he's fighting against them, tail puffed up and his mouth agape as he gasps and moans to the roof, hips spasming.

Dirk is  _ awed _ by the way Dave responds to the puppet. He looks wet, raw,  _ ripped open _ with the way his arms wrench behind his back. Exposed. Beautiful. Dirk is impressed. Dirk is  _ hungry _ .

He’s not finished.

As Dave cums for the second time, Dirk slides up tightly behind him. He can’t help himself, the small indulgence of putting his hands on Dave. He starts at Dave’s shoulders, feels him up all the way down his chest, his ribs, his little belly, his sides. Down to his actual goal: Dave’s hips, where he goes firm. He holds Dave down, watching Dave’s absolutely  _ ruined _ facial expression through the video feed in his glasses.

He doesn’t let Dave move. He doesn’t let him escape from the powerful vibrations, from the slick cock stuffed inside him. It’s ruthless, unending, and he knows that it’s going to hurt. He wants to  _ feel _ Dave shake and break apart in his hands.

Dave’s choked sobs and ragged breaths are music in his ears. He doesn’t actually want it to stop, but still, he presses his lips to a fluffy blonde ear and whispers a soothing, “Shh, Kitten, you’re doing so well. You’re so pretty for me. Shh…”

His thumbs rub soothing circles into Dave’s hips, where he continues to force him to stay put. “You’re going to cum again, okay?” he asks. As if Dave has a choice.

Dave doesn't even have time to come down from his orgasm, because as soon as he's had it, he's being forced towards another one, and its  _ hell _ . Overstimulation sets in faster than he can say 'Fuck', and it makes his belly burn and his hole tight, makes his cock ache and his head throb.

His chest is tight, his heart pounding at the cage of his ribs, and his gasps turn to rasping cries.

"Dirk, Di-rk- '' He heaves, yelping when he tries to bring himself off the toy, only to have Dirk's hands force him back down, shoving the toy deeper and making him weep. 

"I can'- I can't- I cc-caaH-!” Dave wails brokenly, shaking his head and thrashing. “I can't, i can't, Its t-too m-much, its t- t-too m-much- I-it- D-Dirk- p-ple- please!"

Body permanently tensed, at least for now, tears well and spill down his cheeks, spit collecting at the corner of his mouth as his fluttering eyelids hide rolling red eyes. He can't close his mouth, too busy constantly gasping for breath and pleading for reprieve, so he drools, too busy with other things to worry about the way it slides down his chin and jaw and mingles with his salty tears. His hair is a mess, his face is a mess, screwed up and  _ wet _ .

He shakes his head violently as another sobbing moan rips through him, and he tries to no avail to squirm out of Dirk's grip on his hips, shaking and sweating. He can't feel his legs anymore, his thighs so tense around the saddle of the sybian that if it was a  _ person _ there, they'd be suffocating for sure.

He could probably crush a watermelon. 

All he can feel is the painful ache, the fiery desire, Dirk's hands on him, and he cries, back arched, red welts growing on his arms where he fights the ropes as if his life depends on it. 

Dirk's soothing words do little. Sure, Dave wants to be good. He wants to be  _ good,  _ but this is asking too much. Dirk is crooning and petting him, and it feels nice, but it's such a violent contrast to the mean attack of his sensitive lower half that he barely notices it.

Dave hangs his head and moans again, and again, drool dripping onto the mattress, his mouth dry and his chest heaving, body shaking and twitching and trying to bring itself away from the assault on Dave's aching hole. It's up against his prostate again the next time he moves, and he howls, sitting straight and throwing his head back onto Dirk's shoulder once more, his hips grinding against the saddle as if it'll help bring him some relief, and it does— He's been so tense in one position that using his thighs and groin to grind his aching cock and balls against the saddle is nice.

"Please, D-Dirk, I can't do it, It- I can't, Please, please, Dirk, Dirk, Dirk-" Dave chants, back arched as he twists on the toy and mewls pathetically, shaking with sobs and wheezing with gasps.

Dirk had had many fantasies about what this might be like, before any of this even started. About the sounds Dave would make. The faces he would show. The spasms of his muscles. The twitch and flick of those adorable little ears and tail. And Dave is surpassing every single one of his expectations.

The tears. The drool. The slackened mouth. Red lips. Broken cries of Dirk’s name. He even came more than Dirk expected. He wonders if Dave has anything left inside him, or if his next orgasm will be dry. It’ll be a fun little experiment, won’t it?

It’s all sinfully self indulgent. He can honestly say that he doesn’t care what his audience wants anymore. Dave is  _ his _ . It’s  _ his _ name on Dave’s sweet lips, and it’s  _ his _ will that Dave bends to.

“Come on, Kitten,” he encourages. “Just one more. Can you cum one more time for me? I know you can. You’re  _ so good.  _ I know you can give me one more…” He’s all but whispering to Dave, lips still pressed to his ear. One hand moves up from Dave’s hip to rub flat, soothing circles over Dave’s abdomen with his hand. A good little belly rub for a good little boy.

He’s hungry, he’s  _ so hungry _ . He wants to put his mouth all over Dave’s body, feel him, fuck him. He’ll be nice and open after this. Ready and  _ easy _ . His cock will slide right inside that wet little hole, and Dave will  _ let him _ .

It’s going to be exquisite.

Dave writhes and bucks and cries, ears laid flat, tail whapping at Dirk's side as if trying to fight him off. No. No. He can't do it, its too much, it  _ hurts _ . As Dirk kisses and bites at the fuzzy appendage sprouting from his hair, he mewls pathetically, almost mad at himself for how he leans into the others touch, how he so quickly responds to his words.

He's purring again when Dirk's hand moves from hip to stomach. Any other time, Dave would be embarrassed to even have suggested that  _ belly _ rubs were  _ good _ .

Maybe it's just because it's Dirk. But his hands are soft and soothing, yet sturdy and steadying. They're grounding and comforting, the tickle of his fingertips over his abdomen adding to his squirming.

He wonders if Dirk can feel the toy inside of him.

It's a naughty thought, and Dave feels a little naive for thinking that he can, considering that it's not a huge toy, but the thought is still there. Then, suddenly, it’s coming. His orgasm builds in his chest and leaves him breathless, gasping, flushes his face and makes him sweat. He's staring with wide-eyes down at his cock,  _ sure _ that he can't come anymore, watching the way he twitches and grinds. 

"Mmm-GhhhHh!! Th-here- I c-can't- T-there- N-no way, n-not- I can't, I can't d-do it, Dirk, I can'-n't do it-"

Dave yowls, ears twitching and pricking forward now in retaliation to the violent shake that the sybian grants by vibrating against his prostate. 

Dirk is there to hold him. Dirk is there, cooing, petting, reassuring. He's  _ there _ , and he's encouraging him. It's so much to deal with, but Dirk is helping, and Dirk…. Dirk knows. Dirk knows what's best, doesn't he? He knows Dave can do it. Dirk wants Dave to do it, to know that he can. 

He wants to wipe his face again. He's still crying, cut off; 'tch' noises escaping him when he grits his teeth and inhales sharply to muffle a sob. Every so often, he bucks, jerks, and a wail rips free and has him turtling, bringing one shoulder to his cheek as if trying to look over his shoulder, tense and recoiling in on himself from all the sensations.

Dirk…. He's so gentle. He's so— Encouraging. Another burning eagerness sets alight a fire in his veins, and with his last burst of horny energy, he bites his lip, hard.  He can do it. He can. He will. He is-

When Dave cums again, finally, he feels like he's been possessed. He goes rigid, sitting up straight with his back arched and his ears pricked up forward. He wants to dig his fingers into something, rip into the sheets or a shirt, or to dig his claws into the saddle, but they're tied, so all he can do is tug at them again, and the pain only adds to the intense orgasm that rips through him.

He's silent, for the most part. The most silent he's been all night. His lips are slick and wet and he's  _ still _ drooling, his jaw slack as his eyes roll towards the ceiling and his hips buck in aborted fucks into the air, his cock spitting nothing bar a single pitiful spurt of cum, which dribbles down his head and collects at his balls, adding to the already gross pool of sweat.

Dave has never been able to explain the feeling of trying to scream, but not being able to, but now he can. 

It's like all the air was ripped from his lungs in one motion, and he's left choking on his own spit, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. 

He spasms, violently. It's almost like a seizure, the way he curls over himself and jerks, his cock trying to spit out more, but unable to. It's mostly dry, and it  _ hurts _ , now. It really hurts.

He wails, lifting himself enough that he's still hunched over the saddle, but his head isn't touching the mattress anymore.

"Dirk… Dirk…" He heaves, gasping to catch his breath as the toy still thunders and vibrates, pushing and  _ moving _ , and Dave feels so debauched and ruined that he'd almost be willing to do  _ anything _ for some reprieve. 

"Please… Please," He sobs, whimpering, his bottom lip drawn up, quivering as tears stream down his cheeks. "I… I'm b-beg-gin-ng… I c-can't ta-take a-anymo-ore… t-turn it off, oh, please turn it off!"

Dirk selfishly watches Dave break apart for several extra moments, after watching arguably one of the hottest orgasms he’s ever seen, before switching the puppet off. It dies in an instant, the room suddenly going silent, save for Dave’s sobbing. His gorgeously broken voice…

Dave’s begs for mercy play over and over in his mind. Such a sweet sound. So pure and delicious.

Dave moans his gratitude as the puppet dick rumbles down to stopping, and whimpers, his crying so much louder now that it's not undertoned by buzzing and gasping. His arms ache. His cock aches. His  _ hole _ aches.

He moves to get off of it, slowly using whats left of the strength in his legs to sit up on his knees again, moaning and whining pitifully as the toy drags on his sensitive insides, nudges at his walls, catches on his rim,  _ fuck- _

But Dirk is in front of him, and his thighs quiver and give out, and Dave is dropping roughly back onto the cock with a surprised yelp, that trails off into a pornographic moan, his ears and tail tensing and puffing in response.

If this thing could  _ thrust _ ....

Dirk doesn’t move to take Dave off of the toy, though he’s sure he could move Dave any way he wants right now. He does move his own body, however, to sit in front of Dave once again. He eyes his little brother hungrily, all pink skin, sticky cum, sweat shiney, crying, drooling,  _ fuck _ . Dave looks like every single one of Dirk’s wettest dreams.

“You did so well, Kitten, I’m so proud of you. Do you need a break?” he asks. He pets a hand through Dave’s hair, letting sweaty blinde strands slip between his fingers. “I think you’ve earned a treat. Do you want it?” His fingers go tight in Dave’s hair, but it’s not enough to hurt. Just enough to keep Dave sitting upright.

Dave wriggles and squirms and sighs out in little, huffing moans, the toy inside of him stimulating even when its off, though to a much more bearable degree now.

His breathing catches in his throat when Dirk tightens his hand in his hair, and Dave licks his lips expectantly, clearing them of any excess  _ spit _ , his red hues shifting up to peer through femininely long, wet, tear-soaked eyelashes at Dirk.

Dave sniffles, an aborted sob leaving his throat as he closes his eyes and leans into Dirk's hand, bumping his head up, his ears shifting to give him room, twitching and flicking. His tail sways out behind him, curls against his back, dips and falls back against the bed, sways again, repeats the motion with slight deviances, as if it can't stay still.

His other hand comes down to his own belt. His cock  _ throbs _ as his fingers brush over it, working it open. He tugs it out without even pushing his jeans off his hips. He tugs Dave’s head down, bending him in half, allowing Dave to look at it, to see exactly how much he’s affected Dirk. It’s an angry shade of red, and it’s steadily leaking pre. He can already see Dave’s little pink tongue flicking out to lick it up.

“Tell me you want your treat, Dave,” he says, voice as controlled as ever. Even if his heart is fucking pounding.

Dirks praise is like ecstasy. It shoots into his ear canals and into his brain, stimulating his nerves and infecting his bloodstream, soaking into his skin, his muscles, his  _ soul _ . Its candy, sweet and soft and it makes Dave warm and fuzzy.

He was good. He did good.

Dirk is proud.

A treat? Fuck yeah he wants one. 

In the moments that it takes Dirk to get his cock out, Dave's mind is racing, and he desperately tries to drag himself out of whatever pitiful space he's fallen into. Tries to stop crying. Tries to make himself more presentable.

His brother. Dirk is his brother. He shouldn't feel this way. It's wrong, its—  _ abhorrent _ , the things that they're doing.

They're also both  _ boys _ .

Fuck, even some of this stuff they're doing is gross for heterosexuals. And on a camera?

So why doesn't he feel disgusted? Where's the anxiety and shame that should be brewing in his gut? That  _ was _ there, earlier?

Shame brews in red flush on his face, but otherwise, Dave just wants more, and to his confused almost-despair, he doesn't even feel bad for it. 

Dirk pushing him down draws another moan from his mouth, and he squirms for comfort on the toy still seated inside of him, shifting in his bonds as well. He's still tied up, and honestly, he's a little…. grateful?

It's hot. It's arousing. It makes him vulnerable. It forces him to be in complete submission to Dirk, makes him have to  _ trust _ him—

It makes Dirk  _ happy _ .

So it makes Dave happy, too.

At the bobbing, leaking cock in front of his face, Dave stares for a moment like an awed child, or, alternately, an awed cat presented with something it hasn't seen before, isn't sure of.

Dave sure hasn't seen Dirk's cock before. 

It's thick, heavy, leaking precome and  _ red _ , so  _ red _ , and the smell…

Its erotic.

"I want it…" Dave breathes, dazed, not waiting for Dirk to answer or tell him yes or no before his tongue is deftly slipping from his lips, ribbed and bumped like a cats one would be, dragging over Dirk's slit to collect the slick there. He pauses to taste it, moans, and then kitten-licks in small, fast motions all over his red tip, making sure to apply the treatment everywhere he can before he presses his lips in a soft little kiss, and from there proceeds to suck Dirk into his mouth, mindful of his little fangs.

He moans again, ears pricked and tail swaying.

So good….

Dirk’s reaction is… something he has to  _ work _ to repress. His usually easy stoicism comes at a price, as Dave eagerly licks at the tip of his cock. It makes him want to shudder, to buck just as eagerly between those pretty pink lips. The lipgloss Dave had been wearing is smeared all over and it’s-- it’s just… so fucking sexy.

Dave is unbelievably fucking sexy.

Dirk hadn’t accounted for this when he’d made these plans. He knew that Dave would be good, but he didn’t know it would personally affect him like this. He thought he’d just make his dirty movie, make a shit load of cash, and move on, but. 

He  _ wants _ this. He wants this so badly, Dave’s mouth around the head of his cock  _ burns him _ .

His fist tenses in Dave’s hair, and he tugs him further forward by it. He doesn’t look up to see the way the puppet’s cock rips away from Dave in the process. His eyes are too fixed on Dave’s face, his eyes, the way his mouth opens up to stretch around the sudden way Dirk’s cock penetrates all the way back to his throat.

When Dirk's fist closes tighter in his hair, Dave has to stifle a dirty moan. It feels  _ good _ , to know that Dirk wants him, that he'll hold him, and the boy eagerly laps at his slit and whatever else is in his mouth with his soft tongue. He isn't expecting Dirk to wrench him forward though, and when the cock in his ass finally dislodges and slaps free of his hole, he yells around Dirk's cock.

"M- Mmphhhmmhh!- Mm-ghmmnnn-"

Tears well in his eyes again, and his breathing comes in slow shakes. The cock had pulled as his rim and slapped against his lower back, sticky and wet and  _ gross _ , and the shame and sting makes his face hot and his eyes water. Not to mention that Dirk is now fully seated in his mouth, and Dave is being  _ very _ careful of his little fangs.

He’s tempted to keep Dave here. To wrap both hands up in his hair and force him down. Fuck his throat until it ruptures and oozes cum back out onto the sheets. But he promised Dave a  _ break _ and a  _ treat _ , so he files that desire away for next time. Dirk is nothing if not a man of his word.

Even if sometimes that word is twisted and mangled to fit his own agenda.

He does bring his other hand up, but it’s not to hurt. He loosens his hand in Dave’s hair and tucks both sets of fingers behind Dave’s ears. They’re so soft and so perfect, even after how debauched Dave’s face and body have become. He scratches them, encouraging Dave to keep up at his own pace. He wants Dave to  _ want _ this, to do it of his own volition. 

He wants Dave to beg him and  _ thank him _ for it.

“How’s it taste, Kitten?” he asks. “Are you enjoying your treat?” His fingers play delicately with Dave’s ears. It’s addicting, honestly, and if he were capable of self doubt, he would be starting to think that maybe his indulgence is showing on camera.

So he lets one hand slide down to cradle the back of Dave’s neck.

His shades capture the  _ perfect _ angle on video.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck _ , goes Dave's internaly monologue. must look like a treat, he thinks. He's got his pert nose pressed into Dirk's pubis, his lips, shiny with spit, drool, tears, and smeared cherry gloss, stretched around his cock, his big red eyes gazing up his brothers chest to his face, welling with tears, eyebrows knitted and cheeks bright red. 

Arms still tied behind him, he's bent over, slightly slouched, and his back is aching in this position, his thighs still straddling the sybian, the puppet cock resting and  _ dripping _ against the small of his back and the crack of his ass, his cock heavy and empty and sitting in a pool of sweat and cum.

It's degrading. It's filthy.

It's… hot. It's so hot.

Dave moans around Dirk's shaft and squirms, hollowing his cheeks to  _ suck _ as he starts to work his tongue around him, the sticky salt of precome hot at the back of his throat. He pulls away a little, sucks Dirk back down, pulls away a little more, sucks Dirk back down. It's good, he tastes good, and the way he plays with his ears has his tail swaying appreciatively, the fluffy appendage twitching, and he purrs around the others dick, vibrating in a ring around his heady cock as he suckles on him.

Yes, he loves his treat. Yes, he's a good boy. Yes, yes, yes— He'll be anything for Dirk.

The swish of Dave’s tail as he hungrily slurps down Dirk’s cock is endearing. Dave is just so eager and willing, it would make Dirk feel guilty for taking advantage of it, if he were a better person.

But he’s not a better person. And Dave’s perfectly ripe for manipulating. To bend to Dirk’s every single whim. He’s left to wonder  _ exactly _ how much he could get away with. Would Dave let him strap him down? Edge him for hours?  _ Hurt him _ ?

Hmm, how much would Dave be able to take?

He’s certainly taking all of this like a champ. And purring happily while doing it. It’s… immaculate. It actually pulls at Dirk’s heart a little.

And the sloppy, inexperienced way he sucks Dirk’s cock is just so cute, isn’t it? What he lacks in skill he makes up for tenfold in enthusiasm. Dirk is sure he could cum just like this, but that’s not what’s going to happen.

He lets Dave have his fun a little longer. He really does look like he’s enjoying himself, and Dirk isn’t  _ completely _ heartless. Eventually, though, he tugs on Dave’s hair enough to pull his mouth away. He lets Dave hang closely, nose to nose with the end of his spit-slick, red, dripping cock. Just enough to not be able to reach it with his tongue anymore.

Dave keens forward even after Dirk has pulled him from his cock, and a  _ whine _ that surprises him escapes his throat. He's left with a dripping cock sat inches from his nose, and he wants it again, he wants it back in his mouth…

He feels so… degraded. Like he's been reduced to this pretty little thing just for Dirk to use at his own pleasure. 

It's not a problem in and of itself, the problem lies wherein Dave doesn't  _ mind _ . He's been placated into this purring, cock-hungry kitty.

What happened to Dave apple-juice and sick-beats and dope-rhymes Strider? That guy was cool.

This guy? This guy is… he's a disgrace, and he  _ likes it. _

He huffs wetly against the slick tip of Dirk's cock and tries for a moment in vain to catch a drip of pre on the end of his eager tongue, but nay, he's not close enough. 

“Are you ready for more, Dave?” Dirk then asks. He waits for the inevitable consent, because Dave is a good boy, and he will say yes, and then lifts Dave higher up by his hair. He moves Dave around like he’s nothing more than a doll, until he’s on his knees in front of Dirk, chest on the bed, ass in the air.

Dave is surprised when Dirk starts to maneuver him, and he only remembers that his arms are tied when Dirk drops him to his chest on the bed and he tries to catch himself, to no avail.

It hits him what's going to happen, and he licks his lips, his red eyes wide and his ears swivelled back to catch whatever his sibling says.

Dirk takes a firm hold of Dave’s tail and lifts it, watching with rapt eyes as he presses the head of his cock to Dave’s hole. Even with slight pressure, it’s already trying to slip inside, with how open and used Dave has already been. There’s leftover lube from the pupper, and spit slathered all up and down his cock, it’s going to be so easy, so wet and so good.

Dave gives a little squeak when Dirk grabs his tail, cheeks burning red as the other exposes him, giving a weak little mewl of want when he feels  _ Dirk _ against his hole. He's ready. He's eager. He wiggles his hips back and bites his lip,  _ ready _ . 

Dirk's heart is racing again when he addresses Dave once more. “Tell me you want it, Kitten,” he says. “Ask me politely to please fuck you.”

It's hot. It's wet. It's sticky, and crude, and disgusting, and Dave wants it  _ now _ , and Dave wants it hard.

He pulls at his arms, struggling again, and tries with all his might to look even slightly back over his shoulder as he rocks his hips back and tries to coax Dirk into him, into him, because fuck waiting, fuck pleading, just get to it.

He doesn't want to plead, shit. 

But Dave will, and he does, because he's so lost in this fever dream that he'll do anything for Dirk's thick cock ploughing him into the mattress at this point. He'll let Dirk do anything to him, *anything*, just as long as Dirk keeps touching him, keeps calling him 'kitty', keeps telling him that he's good…

"Please—" Dave gasps, managing to twist one shoulder into the bed so he can catch Dirk out of the corner of his eye, his tail swaying and twitching in anticipation. 

"Please, Di- Dirk,- Sh- Hhn, I really- Please- Please f.. fuck me, please…-" 

Dave bites his lip, hard, sinks his canine into the flesh, and squirms, his cock hanging hard and ignored between his legs. Its starting to ache, and fuck,

He needs Dirk inside him  _ now _ .

Dirk lets Dave beg for him for a little while longer, trying not to let his face show exactly how much he fucking loves it. His name so brokenly falling from Dave’s lips,  _ please, please, fuck me Dirk _ .

“What a messy little Kitten…” The currently dominant of the pair coos, as patronizing as can be. “You want my cock inside you, Dave? You didn’t get enough from the puppet? Hm? Filthy little Kitten.”

He holds his tongue on calling Dave something worse. His slutty kitty. His whore. His own personal cock warmer. As confident as he is that Dave will let him get away with it, maybe he should save that kind of degradation for next time. He wants Dave to continue to trust him, after all. This only works if Dave has complete faith in him.

When he pushes in… it’s just as easy as he imagined it to be. He slips right in, sliding all the way down, until his hips bury against Dave’s ass. Dave is hot inside, too hot, probably from all that fucking blushing he’s been doing. Blood pumping. Body overworked. Mm.

Dave moans long, loud, and low, his back arched prettily as Dirk slips into him. It's so easy, he just— Slides right in, and the drag is so delicious that he can't keep any other sounds to himself, moaning and mewling and gasping as Dirk slowly picks up a pace.

The hand Dirk has wrapped around Dave’s tail slides up, pulling gently along the length of it, watching it slip through his fingers. He settles the hand back against Dave’s skin, thumb and finger wrapped around the base, while holding Dave’s hips steady at the same time.

Dirk's not going to last much longer, honestly. This video is almost over. So before he even starts to move, he wraps his other hand around Dave’s poor, abused cock and starts to pump along. “Come for me again, Dave. Be a good little Kitten, I know you can do it…” He knows it probably hurts, that Dave will probably cry again. As he finally starts to fuck into his brother, he doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. Where his own dick disappears inside Dave’s hole? Dave’s utterly debauched face?

If Dave ever stopped crying, he starts again when Dirk fists his cock, the rough callous' on his hands like sandpaper on his abused shaft. He whines and squirms, an aborted attempt to get away as he's forced to fuck into Dirk's hand with every one of his thrusts.

It’s a good thing he can play it back and watch it all for as long, and as many times as he wants.

He fucks Dave slow, letting his cock drag in and out of him in a way that could be considered torture. It’s only when he finally starts to peak, that he lets himself go harder. He pumps Dave along just as hard, until he’s spilling inside and fucking his own cum in deeper. He can see DAve in his head, stuffed full of cum… Not just his own. Turn after turn, with stranger after stranger, filling him up, sticky and full and  _ ruined _ .

God, Dave is just so fucking perfect.

"Dirk," Dave sobs, aching all over, so sore, so sore, but still so fucking horny. How is he this sore, aching, burning, and yet so willing for Dirk to make him cum again?

"Dirk, I- I can't- It- Mmm- mmmm! Ah, It h-hrrnnnnggg- Dii- Diirrkkkk-!"

Moans and wails fall like rain from his lips, and Dave can't help the way his hips keen back to bump and meet each of Dirk's thrusts. Its so slow, its so fucking slow, every push inwards nudging his prostate, every pull out dragging in such a way that it makes his toes curl. Dave shakes, begs, fucks his hips back onto Dirk's cock because if he's gonna cum like this, he needs more. He pulls furiously at his restraints and gives another cry, which quickly turn into louder sobs and gasps of 'Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! ah! ah!', as Dirk picks up his pace.

The drag on his dick. The hot cock buried in his hole. It's all so much, so much, and when Dirk cums, the sensation drives Dave over the edge with an animalistic yell, unable to fight back the orgasm that builds and burns and hurts. Dirk is filling him up, he's fucking him full, and all Dave can give in return are a few pathetic, burning spurts of cum onto the sheets below him and a moan that sounds more like a weeping wail, voice muffled and then not, depending on if Dirk has fucked his body and face down into the mattress, or if he's allowed reprieve to crane his neck up slightly.

Dirk, Dirk, Dirk, Dirk, Dirk-" He gasps and sobs, his thighs quivering and his chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath. 

He feels lightheaded and hot. He can feel Dirk settling inside, and he feels so warm and full, and he sniffles pathetically, face still smushed into the bed, wet with tears and drool.

Dirk leans over, kisses Dave’s ear tenderly. “Such a good kitty…”

Everything  _ aches _ .

Dave wants to go to sleep.


End file.
